


Not From Me

by terryreviews



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), First Time, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, Lust, M/M, Top Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 07:03:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20616953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terryreviews/pseuds/terryreviews
Summary: Aziraphale invites Crowley to his home. Nothing but pure intentions of course. Or were they?Crowley sees through the ruse very quickly and sets about breaking Aziraphale's resolve. Though, he is a rather soft demon...Case in point, Aziraphale doesn't have to fear anything, not from Crowley.





	Not From Me

**Author's Note:**

> I've never really done a type of erotic story like this. Never with bondage or light sub/dom tones. I feel like I made it very soft, as I usually do. But as this is my first attempt at this kind of story, I would really appreciate constructive criticism/feedback.

The apocalypse hadn't happened, they saved themselves from execution, and so the world continued on unaware and they had embraced free will. They were free to live their lives and openly be friends for the first time in 6,000 years.

An unspoken arrangement came into being, replacing the old one. The rough parameters being  _spend more time together_ . There wouldn't be centuries apart this time. No eighty year splits because of a disagreement. They were alone together now as they were despised and feared by their original sides, they'd chosen humanity but were not human. They were uniquely themselves.

As per this unspoken arrangement, they had begun taking turns inviting each other to events, shows, to each other's places. In the wake of their avoided dooms, the comfort of each other's company took on a much more significant meaning.  _We have each other and always will._

Aziraphale puttered about the space, looking over everything for the third time, adjusting this or that, wringing his hands. When he invited Crowley, or when Crowley invited him, it was always in the understanding of platonic friendship. A deep, loving friendship, just as important as any kind of romantic relationship, but here, right now...he wanted to try something else with the demon. A different way to explore that love.

“Oh, drat,” he huffed. He didn't even know if he was going to carry through with this. It wouldn't be hard. Just not bring Crowley upstairs. He had a purpose when he invited Crowley over tonight, but if he lost his nerve, he could change that intention.

“Angel?” He heard from downstairs and practically ran down them.

Crowley had made himself comfortable already on his sofa, legs deliciously sprawled outwards much too wide to be proper or polite, and waved at the other as Aziraphale came into the room.

“Hello dear boy, I'm so glad you came over.”

Crowley snorted at that, “been spending time with you once a week since we didn't die Aziraphale. I wouldn't refuse an invitation now more than ever.” The look on the other's face was so fond that the angel's heart gave a painful lurch and he turned his face away quickly.

“I'll go fetch some wine.”

He spent several minutes longer than necessary to find the bottles he wanted and their glasses (he only had the two) doing some deep breathing. Once calm, he raised his chin, put on a winning smile and returned to Crowley who was waiting patiently.

“Is that what we'll be doing tonight angel?” Crowley accepted the glass handed to him, a bemused expression on his handsome face and Aziraphale had the feeling Crowley was suspecting something.

“That, and I have picked up some new books that I'd like to share a few passages of with you,” he scurried to his place at the desk and with a snap, a bottle had become open, both their glasses were full, and a book was in the angel's hands.

“You're going to read to me?” Crowley blinked, “you've never read to me.”

“You never were keen on books, but perhaps I could tempt you to try it. Or at least let me share a story or two with you,” Aziraphale sipped his wine and flipped to the opening page. “This one, not my usual cup of tea mind, but interesting. A choose your own ending sort of story. Twenty possible endings. Given what we'd recently been through, I felt it might be _fun_.”

Crowley sipped on his wine and gave a wave of his hand.

“Thank you dear.”

The story was about being some young person hunting for a buried treasure. It had been meant for children, the sentences limited and the wording less elaborate, but it strove to make one feel apart of the story as was it's goal and it was cute.

“I'm afraid we died again,” Aziraphale sighed.

Crowley gave a non-heated, “damn.”

“We've found four of the twenty endings. Would you like to keep going?” Aziraphale gave a little swallow before pressing on, “or would you like to see what I've done with my flat?” It wasn't tactful, but nor could it be construed in any way other than showing him around. 

The demon's eyebrow raised, “you have a flat?”

“Rarely used for anything but storage for my wardrobe, but yes. I have one. I've been thinking of trying different things and I've changed my flat.”

“Did you?”

Aziraphale nodded and stood up. He wrote himself a little note and tucked it into the book. They could try for the other endings at some other point.

“Yes. Just through here is the stair case,” he moved to the gap in the book cases. It led to a narrow, shallow hallway that led to the kitchen (mostly used for tea). Behind a little door, there was a stair case that led to the flat. It wasn't as if Crowley had never been up there, but the sight that greeted him was definitely new. It looked less than a rummage sale, and more like an actual flat.

“You did this without miracles?”

Aziraphale made a so-so gesture. “Sometimes it is nice to do things in the physical way. For some of it though, I did...”

“Cheat?” Crowley teased.

“Cheat is a strong word but yes. I suppose.”

The entire flat was a nice, square space that was the length and width of the back part of the shop, above the backroom and kitchen. The walls were bare wood like you would see in an attic. Each plank of wood clearly visible and old. To the right, against the wall, was a reasonable full sized bed with a large headboard of carved wood. The bed covers looked quite new. Blue, with stars in subtle shades of white, silver, and gold. If he focused, he could see constellations. Interesting. Aziraphale was taken with nature as much as the next celestial being, and that included space, but...that wasn't necessarily his thing. He liked gardens, flowers, earthly things. The one who really liked space was...

“I'm afraid it is a bit sparse at the moment.”

He turned to see Aziraphale wringing his hands, watching him. He must've stayed silent for too long and began doing a quick circle on his heel to gain a better look.

“Not bad angel. I can actually see some wall in here,” aside from the bed, there were stacks of books. A bit impersonal for Aziraphale to have a few stacks of books on the floor as opposed to on a table or shelf, but clearly they were going to be moved soon as they were few and short. 

In addition to the bed, the angel had two night side tables. On one of them was a gloriously tacky, but perfectly Aziraphale, lamp with a base in the shape of a stack of books with a duck nestled against them. They did like the ducks. It distressed Aziraphale to no end when they found out they weren't supposed to be feeding them bread and yet that's exactly what they had been doing for years. Crowley had bought a huge sack of feed and a nice velvet bag for the angel to put it in when they went to the park. Aziraphale had treated him to a very nice dinner, of which, Crowley actually ate half of the plate though he couldn't remember what the dish actually was.

When he looked opposite the bed, there was a new/old sofa. A love seat with horse hair cushions and hard wooden back in a dusty crème color and a little coffee table with magazines several years out of date on top (probably because that's what the angel thought needed to go on the table). 

One stand up rack of clothes was tucked into the left corner along with a chest of drawers that, frankly, Crowley thought would be much larger.

“Do you like it?”

It was then Crowley felt something  _shift_ . Like how the angel could sense love, so too could the demon sense...

Crowley smirked to himself before meeting the angel's eyes.

“Why did you invite me, angel?” 

Aziraphale gave a confused tilt of the head, “to read to you and have a drink dear boy,” his cheeks began to pinken, “obviously.”

“Really?” Crowley took a step forward, removing his glasses, tucking them into his jacket pocket. A flash of forked tongue peeked out, a tease, then another step.

Aziraphale, to his credit, stood in place, though he began to look ever like the skittish mouse sniffing around for the cat.

“Lying to me?” Crowley undid the decorative scarf's knot with one hand, before tugging it slowly, sensually, from around his neck to let it flutter to the floor. Another step and this time, Aziraphale stepped back.

“Of course not Crowley. Why would lie to you? You're my best friend and after what we've been through,” Aziraphale trailed off, breath becoming just a fraction more strained.

“Perhaps,” he grinned when Aziraphale's back hit the wall, “you're shy?” the demon came to be right in front of the angel, not quite touching but still sharing air, still feeling body heat off of one another and with micro-movements, they brushed against the other.

“Protecting yourself? You don't need to you know,” he brought his fingers up to trace the angel's jaw. “Not from me.”

Lips grazed against lips, not a kiss, not yet.

“My, my, what is this?” Crowley glanced down and just the very tip of Aziraphale's bulge nudged his thigh. He gently pushed forward, their fronts now flush together.

Aziraphale's hands scrambled for something to hold onto and found nothing but the rough wood of the wall, where he pressed his palms against. Eyes glassy, face flushed.

“It's not what you think,” he managed, the words thick, trembling.

“It isn't? What do I think Aziraphale?” Crowley's knee pressed forward against the other's clothed erection, and Aziraphale's head thunked against wall with a moan that was barely repressed.

“I...” the angel was caught. If he said what he thought Crowley thought, it would reveal exactly what his intentions had been when inviting Crowley over.

“I think,” Crowley nuzzled his neck, “that you thought,” he snaked a hand down to his hip, “to invite me here to tempt you.”

Aziraphale's eyes fluttered closed, mouth working but no sound.

“I am very familiar with temptation angel,” Crowley's breath was back against his lips, “this is temptation.”

“I just cleaned my room,” Aziraphale opened his eyes. Breathy and his cock gave a twitch inside his trousers.

“And bought a new bed even though we both know you don't sleep?” Crowley cocked an eyebrow, amused.

Aziraphale squirmed in Crowley's embrace and before he could stop himself he said, “ you do.”

Aziraphale went still, eyes widening at his own words. 

Crowley squeezed his hip and brought the fingers of his free hand to graze the angel's cheek.

“I do many things in bed sweetheart,” he felt the full-bodied shiver at the nickname and ground his knee gently against the angel's buldge earning a sharp gasp and both of Aziraphale's hands coming to clench in the lapels of his jacket.

“Crowley,” it was a plea, and Crowley decided to answer it.

“Let's make use of your new bed,” there was a snap.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale was not _shy_ really, but finding himself spread out, wrists and ankles bound to the four corners of the bed, his effort bobbing, damp, and so very obvious was pushing his sense of modesty.

“You know Aziraphale,” Crowley stalked closer to the bed, fully clothed and eying him like a feast. If he wanted, he could get himself out of this. It was all so much, so quickly after all. They hadn't discussed any sort of possible physical relationship. Yet, seeing Crowley, so cool, confident, without his glasses, and being as utterly aroused as he was? He found himself tense, nervous, but trusting and hungry, “you once said,” he came to the side of the bed and trailed a finger tip along the angel's thigh, “that I moved too fast for you.”

He saw Aziraphale's flash of guilt and raised a hand, Aziraphale remained silent. “I am not angry. I'm not trying to make you feel guilty. It just gave me an idea, if you'll allow me?” He sat next to the angel, keeping a distance between their bodies, “maybe you're right,” a note of mischief in his voice, “I go too fast. So,” he leaned so that his mouth was near the angel's, the angel in question tilting his head to it, “what if I take my time?”

With that Crowley surged forward and pressed a deep, passionate kiss to Aziraphale's lips. He hummed in contentment at finally,  _finally_ , being able to feel all of Aziraphale's love and lust unguarded as the other began kissing back. Wet, inexperienced, but utterly perfect.

“Oh Crowley, what am I to do?”

“Trust me. Trust me angel alright? I swear you'll enjoy this. If you want me to untie you, say...say crepes and I will. You can protest, squirm, call me any name you want, but if you _really _really want to stop, say crepes. But for now, let me take care of you. My sweet, spoiled, virginal angel.”

Aziraphale sputtered at the descriptions but ceased when Crowley kissed him again, and he melted. Oh why, why hadn't he let them do this before? He knew why, but if only he had been braver, if only he had seen Heaven for what it was, like Crowley had. He wouldn't want to be a demon, he wouldn't want to tempt people into sin, but he also wouldn't end up as one of the only truly merciful/nice angels in Heaven that gave a damn about humanity.

“Where'd you go?” Crowley was looking down at him, cupping his face. A mixture of arousal being repressed by concern on his beautiful face. He was beautiful, Aziraphale marveled as he stared into his eyes. Lovely, serpentine eyes.

“Nowhere I wished to at the moment.”

“Am I pushing you too much?” He reached for the binding on Aziraphale's wrist.

“Don't you dare,” Aziraphale snapped, despite it having no real venom in it. Crowley stopped and watched the other, eye brow raised.

“If it gets too much, I'll say crepe. I can squirm, protest, whatever I'd like, but unless I say crepes don't you stop. I trust you. I want you. I love you. Please Crowley, please. Go back to how you were behaving before. I liked it. I...” Crowley buried his face into his neck, kissing and nipping at the skin there, earning a giggle. “Oh, that tickles. It feels good but it tickles darling.”

The demon's voice went back to that hot, growling, tempting pitch once again “You are so easy to tempt angel, you're very lucky to not be human. You have them at an advantage resisting me.” He slid his tongue along the underside of the other's jaw before pulling back again. “It'll take time to break you.”

His hands came into play now, fingertips ghosting over the angel's reddened chest, circling the soft flesh there around the muscle, and very lightly touching the nipples.

“Oh my,” Aziraphale turned his face into his shoulder. A wave of fresh arousal came over him. “Do you think you can break me demon?” He glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw Crowley's grin grow more fiendish.

“You challenging me Aziraphale? Hm? You really think that you can withstand me? I'm one of the worst hell has produced after all.”

“Don't believe it. You're one of the nicest, AH!” He earned himself a bite on the chest for that before it was soothed by tender touches and that lovely forked tongue.

“Watch it, I'm not nice. Well,” he began rubbing his hands along Aziraphale's belly, “I _can_ be. I suppose. If you beg me for it.”

“No.” The protest belittled by his earlier speech of course, but Crowley gamely played along.

“No? You're the one who invited me, remember? You're the one tied to the bed, cock dripping all over itself,” Crowley paid it a look of indifference, “must be painful angel.” he shifted so that he was straddling Aziraphale's thighs and Aziraphale groaned when Crowley shifted forward, letting the rough fabric of his skinny jeans brush against his erection.

“Do you get these often? I wouldn't imagine you do, being an angel and all. Probably have no idea what to do with it. Books, and don't think I haven't seen those books angel, are a poor substitute for a real hand, a real body. Ask me nicely, beg me, I'll show you.”

Aziraphale shook his head, closed his eyes. 

“You will,” Crowley said, a note of finality as he began to touch again. This time, each palm ran up and down Aziraphale's belly and chest. Deliberately chaste but all so erotic none the less. Aziraphale had never done this before. Crowley knew this. He'd mentioned it off-handed when they had a conversation about sin some years ago. 

The newness, the fact that this was Crowley...oh how amazing. How perfectly right. Heated breath fanned over his neck and once again, a set of teeth touched his skin, grazing from his shoulder to the front of his neck, to his cheek. 

The demon was dexterous enough that, though he was bent over the angel, pressing his mouth and hands to his body, he was bent far enough away to only tease his clothed cock against Aziraphale's without pressing against him. No sense of relief.

“You're so soft and warm,” Crowley murmured as he kissed the angel's cheek, kneading the angel's chest and belly, toying with nipples, dipping his fingers into the belly button neither of them needed. “Not like Hell. Hard and hot.”

Aziraphale kept his eyes resolutely closed, relishing the easy pleasure of Crowley's touch. He ached, so very much, but he didn't know what he wanted nor did he want to admit it lest it ruin the glorious game they started back up. Crowley said he could break him, let him try.

“I've thought about it you know,” Crowley kissed his forehead this time before pulling back. When no touches or further words happened, Aziraphale opened his eyes. He choked on his breath.

Crowley was still fully dressed, minus the scarf and glasses, but the hunger in his eyes, the mischief on his lips, he almost wanted to give in then.

“Having you in bed with me. At first,” he got off of Aziraphale's legs and began shimming downwards, “I wanted to fuck you, hard and fast, against whatever surface I could get you on. In Rome alone, all I'd have to do is lift your toga. Sex was so popular then. Still is, but they brought a whole...emphasis to it.” Crowley fitted himself between the other's legs so that he was on his belly, his hands on Aziraphale's thighs, mouth so very near where Aziraphale continued to twitch and ache. It was a miracle he hadn't come from Crowley's presence, the atmosphere alone was so damn intense.

Crowley scratched the skin lightly, each hand working in tandem to tease and tickle, leaving goosebumps in their wake, playing with the seam where pelvis and thigh met.

“There were many times angel. I'd go home, wank over the thought of you screaming as I fucked you over and over until you were left dry. But now,” he kissed a knee, licked the other, “now I see the virtue of patience. You made me wait for so long. I know you knew. Now, you're going to have to beg me, chase me.” There was no bitterness in his voice, only want, only hope, only a sub-textual plea of _please want me angel_.

“I'm sorry dear, for making you...” he was cut off by a wail. Crowley had taken him in hand, using his pre-cum as slick.

“Don't feel guilty for it. Don't. It means that _this_,” he gestured between them, “is more delicious. Something to be savored. Going slow. Unless,” he carefully tightened his grip and began to stroke in a steady pattern, “you break for me. I can't go any faster unless you tell me after all angel. So you have to take what I give you unless you admit what you want, how you want it.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale felt the sweat build on his brow, his hips wiggled as far as they could.

“What would be so bad about giving in angel? Hm?” A little twist to the head earning a sharp breath and Aziraphale began moving his head back and forth as his breath came more ragged. “you've nothing to fear from me. Give in to temptation Aziraphale, ask me. Tell me what you want right now. I'll do it. Whatever you want. But you must confess.”

“I,” Aziraphale groaned, “I don't...”

“You don't?” Crowley's grip loosened and he chuckled at the whine.

“I think you're lying again. Come on angel, give in. Just a little bit. Just tell me a little bit about what you want.”

“Crowley, please...” he was weak. Soft. For Crowley, always Crowley.

“Please what?”

“Please touch me.”

“I am touching you.”

“I mean...”

“Yes?”

“Harder.” His back arched as that hand tightened and began to stroke in earnest.

“See? I knew you'd like it. Not so scary to break for me. It's just me,” Crowley cooed as he listened to the incoherent gasps and groans that began spilling out of his love. His. No one else has seen Aziraphale like this, no one else ever would. This was all for him. 

If this were any of his other partners he'd had over time, he'd already be balls deep in them, bed shaking, leaving bite marks up and down their neck and collar bone, and ready to come. There was no rush. He had Aziraphale at his mercy and that's exactly where the angel wanted to be.

“I'm going to...Crowley...” desperate, eyes lidded, he risked looking down and seeing those long fingers, glistening, wrapped around his cock, Aziraphale lost. His head fell back and he let out a strangled cry before going silent, body getting very tense before quaking. His balls retracted and with a twitch, his orgasm spilled out in a long, thick, rush up and then down all over himself and Crowley's hand.

Aziraphale couldn't move. At all, he was tingling and exhausted all over and had become melted into the bed as the after shocks rattled his body. After a moment, panting, he opened his eyes to find Crowley watching him. Awe on the serpent's face, like Aziraphale, was the most wondrous thing he'd ever seen.

“I love you,” Crowley rushed forward and smashed their lips together, shoving his tongue into the other's mouth, sucking at his lips, growling. “I love you, angel, I love you.” Crowley snapped his fingers and the bindings holding the angel were gone.

Despite his shaking limbs, Aziraphale managed to wrap his arms around the other's neck. Kissing him back.

“What about,” Aziraphale managed through their kisses, “taking time?”

“Fuck that. I've waited long enough. Besides,” he brushed a hand through Aziraphale's hair, “I already won the game. I could've kept it going, but I think I've teased you enough.”

“Teased me, or yourself enough?”

“Shaddup.”


End file.
